


Doctor Doctor and Mister Doctor

by paperscribe



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperscribe/pseuds/paperscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by an interview Russell T. Davies gave just before the end of his tenure at Doctor Who.  Davies mentioned that they could bring back Ten by having Eleven be unable to stop changing back and forth between his current and past self.  This is my version of that story.  Very tiny spoilers through The Crimson Horror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Doctor and Mister Doctor

Circuits popped and sparks fizzed in the TARDIS control panel.

“It’s not my fault this time!” Clara protested. “I didn’t touch anything, I promise!”

“No, of course not. Why would you?” the Doctor asked, hurrying to the offending panel and trying to conduct some form of damage control. “She’s just feeling feisty today. Aren’t you?” He examined the sensors. “And with good reason. There’s a Ternian patrol ship out there.”

“Ternian? What are they?”

“Roughly speaking, the galactic equivalent of night watchmen,” the Doctor said, flipping switches as he spoke. “They patrol the quieter bits of space, though that ship is leaking a bit of…”

“A bit of?” Clara prompted when the Doctor didn’t finish his sentence.

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Omicron radiation!”

“What’s that then?” Clara asked, not liking the sound of it.

The Doctor turned to Clara. “Step behind the railing.”

Clara did as he asked. “But why? What is…”

The temporal vortex at the center of the TARDIS controls surged, forming a ball of red light that ended just inside the TARDIS railings. The Doctor was trapped in the sphere, but Clara wasn’t.

“Doctor!” Clara shouted.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the ball of light faded, and the Doctor fell to his knees, gasping. Clara started toward him, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“I’m all right, Clara. Stay back until the radiation has a chance to fade away. It interacted with the temporal vortex. Not sure what it did yet.” He shook his head. “Blimey.”

Blimey? Clara wondered.

The Doctor caught sight of his hand, and it seemed to surprise him. He staggered to his feet and turned…and Clara caught her breath in surprise. The Doctor wasn’t there anymore…or his clothes were, but…a new man stood inside them, a man with shorter, spiky hair, tall and skinny, with big brown eyes that had not a little consternation in them at the moment.

“What,” the man said, looking at his hand.

Clara took a step back. “Who are you?” she demanded.

He shifted his attention to her. “What?” He reached up, touching his face, hair, sideburns. He looked shocked. “What,” he exhaled.

***

“Who are you?” Clara asked again.

The man blinked. “Clara, it’s me. The Doctor.”

“Not the one I know,” Clara said.

“Well, no, not exactly,” the Doctor said. “The omicron radiation seems to have interacted with my physiology and…sort of…unregenerated me.”

Clara shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“Right. So. Time Lords can regenerate to a new form and personality when we’re near death. But…this is who I was before I was the Doctor you met. I regenerated into him.”

“Prove it,” Clara said.

“Erm, well, you’re Clara Oswald. You’re impossible. We’ve been to a haunted house and a submarine and fought aliens and ghosts and leeches. Not to mention people getting caught in the WiFi. Now that was brilliant.”

Clara knew her mouth was open in astonishment but only one person could know all those things. “Doctor?”

He gave her a cheeky, excitable grin and a tip of his head. “Oh yes!”

“What do we do?” Clara asked.

He gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Well…you’re…different,” Clara said, gesturing to him.

“That’s me,” he said, with another grin and a wink.

“You’re not worried at all?”

“Not really. Well, a little. This really shouldn’t be happening and it probably has some unpleasant side effects somewhere,” he admitted. “But for now, I’m just pleased to be here!”

“Right,” Clara said weakly. “You’ve only turned into a new person. Happens every day.”

“Not every day. We wouldn’t live a month that way,” the Doctor said. “Couldn’t call us the Time Lords then. We’d have to call ourselves the Time Mayflies.” He grinned in appreciation of his own joke. “Mayflies? Anything? No?” His grin fell away.

“How can you make jokes at a time like this?” she asked.

“I always do that,” he said. “You just never met me.”

“Doctor,” Clara said, trying desperately to move the conversation to ground where she felt safe. “What about the Ternian patrol ship?”

“Right!” The Doctor turned back to the controls but looked round at the inside of the TARDIS, distracted. “What on earth has he done with the design? Well, nothing on Earth, clearly, but still…”

“Doctor!”

“Ternians!” the Doctor said, looking at his viewscreen. “Hang on a minute. I’m not reading any lifesigns over there. Even with interference from the omicron energy, the crew should be visible.”

“Do lifesigns include robots?” Clara asked.

“If the robots have any biological components at all, the answer is yes,” the Doctor answered. He smiled as the TARDIS sent a vibration through the deck. “Hello, you beautiful ship you. I’m glad to see you too.”

“So there’s no one there and the ship’s still running?” Clara asked, not sure she liked being the only one who could keep the Doctor focused.

“Seems that way,” the Doctor said, shaking his head. “Which is weird, because usually Ternian ships are heavily staffed.” He grinned at her. “Want to go over there and take a look?”

“No,” Clara said firmly.

The Doctor looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Look what the ship passing by did to you,” Clara said. “What would actually going aboard do to you? Or to me?”

“Well, nothing to you. You weren't exposed to the time vortex-omicron interaction field, and you’ve only got one incarnation. Although…well, no. Strictly speaking, possibly untrue, but you don’t have any memories of that, do you?”

“Is what you’re saying supposed to make sense?” Clara asked.

“It makes perfect sense. It’s just nonlinear,” the Doctor answered. “Anyway, I think we’ll be fine.”

“You think?” Clara asked.

“Hang on. Why are you traveling with me if you don’t like adventure?” the Doctor asked.

Clara knew she should have an answer. She should. But she’d come because…well…it felt right. This place at this time just felt right.

“Anyone with any sense would be frightened,” Clara said.

“I think you’ll notice that’s not an answer,” the Doctor said. “If it really worries you, I’ll go out alone and you can stay in here, safe and hidden away. What d’you reckon?”

Clara sighed. “You’re always doing this to me,” she grumbled.

“You’re much more difficult than any of my companions,” the Doctor mused matter-of-factly. “I mean, ones I had when I was me. And if anyone had the right to be difficult, it was Martha. Wandering round the world for a whole year, working as a servant in 1913. It’s a wonder she didn’t file charges in the end.”

“How many people have you toured with in this snog box anyway?” Clara asked. It always offended the Doctor (and sometimes the TARDIS) when she called it that.

But it didn’t offend this Doctor. He just smiled at her. “Sorry. Gentlemen never surf quantum singularities and tell.”

Well, that was disconcerting. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Am I? I don’t think so. No. Just keeping the tone light.” The TARDIS shuddered to a stop. “Here we are, inside the Ternian ship. Now. Stay close to me and we’ll be all right.”

Clara nodded, reluctantly following the Doctor to the door as he muttered, “I have really got to get this interior fixed.”

***

The lighting aboard the Ternian ship was dim.

“Emergency lights?” Clara asked nervously.

“No,” the Doctor said. “Ternians have very sensitive eyes. Bright lights like humans are used to would blind them.” He rubbed his temples, looking tired.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just a headache. I’m f…” He collapsed.

And then sprang to his feet, looking like the Doctor Clara knew. “We’ll have to reach the controls to find the source of the omicron leak. Any suggestions?”

Clara impulsively threw her arms round his neck. “It’s you!”

“Oh. Hugs. Yes.” Clara's Doctor murmured, patting her back gingerly. “There, there.”

Clara pulled back. “I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to be me,” the Doctor said. “This me. Proper me.” His accent changed regions. “Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Clara stared at the Doctor in alarm. “Are you all right?”

“Just having a disagreement with myself. No cause for panic,” the Doctor said, voice back to normal. He looked round. “The real question is, why is this place deserted?”

“Would the leak injure the Ternians?” Clara asked.

“It shouldn’t have,” the Doctor said. “And if it had, we’d be seeing something different.”

“What’s that?”

“Injured Ternians,” the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together. “This is a puzzle. Let’s investigate.”

Clara hated investigating. “All right.”

The Doctor inclined his head forward, but then the rest of him followed, and it was the spiky-haired man who staggered to his feet.

“There has got to be an easier way of doing this,” the other Doctor informed Clara. “Come on then.”

Clara followed warily.

The Doctor took his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and made a face at it. “He’s changed the design of this as well? Honestly!” He shook his head. “You’d think he didn’t like me.” Suddenly, his voice shifted to a more familiar timbre and cadence. “You splashed yourself so indelibly over everything I had to break away for my own sanity.” He interrupted himself. “No one asked you.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Clara asked.

“Brilliant. Fantastic. Molto bene,” the Doctor said. “Never seen a synaptic overwrite before, Clara Oswald?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Clara said. To her horror, he seemed to melt and shift in front of her to the man she knew.

“The omicron energy has…reawakened the synaptic patterns of my prior self,” Clara's Doctor explained. “Both of us exist simultaneously in the same mind. Quite good fun, actually, minus the struggle for control.”

“Control?” Clara asked, horrified.

Clara's Doctor looked at her, and the wrong voice came out of his mouth. “One of us has to win, and the other has to lose.” He grimaced, voice returning to normal. “You see the problem.”

“I’m beginning to,” Clara admitted.

“But if we don’t resolve this leak, none of this will matter,” the Doctor said. His face melted again, back to the other man’s. “Speak for yourself.”

“So omicron radiation doesn’t bother Ternians, then,” Clara said.

The other Doctor smiled. “Oh, I like you, Clara Oswald. No. In fact, that’s why they developed this sort of engine. Unlike other forms of radiation, omicron energy isn’t lethal to them.” He paused. “So there’d be no reason for them to evacuate! Oh! The plot thickens.”

His face shifted again, and Clara's Doctor staggered, falling to his knees. “Clara…”

“I’m here,” she said, kneeling beside him. “What is it?”

“I need your help,” he panted, obviously weakened by what was happening to him.

Right now, Clara trusted her Doctor much more than the spiky-haired one. “Tell me what to do.”

“You have to help me stop the leak,” the Doctor said, still breathing heavily. “That will decrease the concentration of the radiation in the ship and in my body and will help me come back to myself again. Otherwise he’ll…he’ll be…” He wheezed. “He’s stronger every moment.”

“I can see that,” Clara said. “How do I stop the…?”

“Sorry, question time’s over,” the other Doctor said, scrambling to his feet. He had much more energy than Clara’s Doctor had just seconds ago. “Mystery first, identity crisis second.”

But Clara couldn’t tell if that was the way the issues should be resolved or the way the other Doctor wanted the issues to be resolved. Suddenly, this was a man with whom she had no history, a man she was uncertain she could trust. And that worried her. It had taken her long enough to trust her Doctor, the Doctor she knew.

“Here we are. Control room,” the Doctor said, going inside. He flipped a few switches. “Source of the leak, engine room. Not an enormous surprise, but…” He stared at the monitor as a smile grew and grew on his face. “Oh, that’s brilliant!”

“What?” Clara asked.

“This is an experimental model of an entirely automated patrol ship,” the Doctor said, looking gleeful. “If anything happens that needs proper backup, it’s set to call the local lawkeeping species. Keeps everyone out of harm’s way until they need to be in harm’s way.”

Clara exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. No dead Ternian crew, then.

“Right,” the Doctor said. “On to the engine room. Allons-y!” He took a few steps, but then, with a sudden groan, fell against the wall, Clara’s Doctor again.

“Close the leak,” Clara's Doctor panted, and then he was gone.

“Already on it, old man,” the other Doctor said, pushing himself upright again.

“Are you sure you’re…” Clara began.

“Perfect. Fine. Never better,” the Doctor said, cutting her off.

Clara sighed. “He never tells me anything either.”

The Doctor looked at her sympathetically. “In all fairness, he has lost you twice.”

Clara frowned. “What does that mean?”

“He hasn’t even told you that?” The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Blimey. All right, here’s how it happened. I met a girl in the future. Looked like you. She died. Went back in time to Victorian England, met another girl who looked like you. She died. Then I found you. Basically, it’s been a full-time occupation keeping you, this you, proper you, alive. Not that I’m complaining. That’s my job with all my companions really. I’ll admit, it seems more difficult with you. Not sure why that is. Anyway. Engine leak!” He darted ahead.

Clara was so shocked she barely remembered to follow him. Two other women, both looking like her, both dead? She didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“I’d better be the exception,” she whispered softly, under her breath.

“Sorry, what?” the Doctor called back to her.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” she said.

“Oh, you too?” The Doctor grinned at her. When she didn’t respond, he shook his head. “You have the most difficult sense of humor of anyone I’ve met. Barring the Judoon. At least with the Judoon, I’m sure there’s something in their own culture makes them laugh.”

“Humorless and difficult,” Clara said. “Are you this charming with everyone?”

“Yes, but I’ll admit it usually goes better than this,” the Doctor said. He stopped short at the door to the engine room.

Inside the engine room was a clear, bubbling, glowing tank, a bit of the glow seeping out round the edges. Clara supposed that must be the omicron engine. But…Clara squinted. A shimmering iridescent blue thing shaped vaguely like a jellyfish seemed to be fading in and out of the tank.

“What is it?” Clara whispered.

The Doctor turned to Clara. “Can’t you hear it?”

“No,” Clara said. “Can you?”

The Doctor nodded. “It’s a Vincon,” he said, taking a step forward. “They phase-shift through different dimensions and speak telepathically.” He touched the glass wall of the tank, flinching a little at what he heard. He turned to Clara, voice thick, expression pained. “It’s a child.”

Clara gasped softly. “Oh no!” She took a step forward, then another. “How can we save it?”

The Doctor shook his head. “The omicron radiation is interacting with its phase-shifting ability. It’s trapped here in this dimension.” He shook his head, whispering, “It’s in so much pain.”

Clara had never seen her Doctor so openly…emotional? Empathetic? Usually he just ran around being brilliant at everyone with the occasional outburst that was then tucked away neatly and forgotten about.

“How do we help it?” Clara asked gently. 

The Doctor seemed to have forgotten that she was there. He removed his hand from the glass and turned to her, thinking.

“There should be a backup engine tank,” the Doctor said slowly. “If it’s still operational, we can flush the omicron energy there and cut off this tank entirely. That’ll stop the leak and the Vincon should be able to phase shift away from here. If it isn’t too badly hurt.” His lips moved soundlessly, and then the recognizable whisper of Clara’s Doctor came from them. “Clara…nearly…out of time.”

“I’ll help,” Clara said firmly. “Tell me how it works.”

The Doctor blinked as if he’d lost his concentration for a moment. “Right. You sit there by those four switches. When I give the word, flip each switch from left to right. I’ll call them by number.” He made some adjustments. “One!”

Clara flipped the first switch, and the second tank grew luminous.

“Two!”

Clara flipped the second switch and the ship shuddered to a halt beneath them. 

“Three!”

Clara flipped the third switch, and the fuel began to move from the first tank to the second. The alien child seemed more solid as the liquid surrounding it drained away, more fully in this dimension.

“Four!” the Doctor shouted once the liquid had all moved to the second tank and the first tank was no longer leaking light.

Clara flipped the fourth switch and the engine came back to life. She turned to the Doctor, who was looking at the Vincon as it bobbed gently in the tank. The Doctor strode to the glass, pressing his hand against it. The Vincon flickered as if if in greeting, and the Doctor closed his eyes.

“You can go now,” he told it, softly.

The Vincon began to fade, until all trace of it had gone from the damaged fuel tank. The Doctor opened his eyes, pulling away his hand. Then he smiled.

“Well done, Clara Oswald. I could get to like you,” the Doctor said with a grin. Then his knees buckled and he fell.

“Doctor, what’s happening?” Clara asked, kneeling beside the Doctor. He was breathing hard now.

“The omicron energy in my body is…dispersing,” the Doctor said weakly. “I’m changing back.”

“Will it hurt?” Clara asked.

“It always has,” the Doctor said. “If only I had more time…”

“For what? More mysteries?” Clara asked.

The Doctor nodded. “More everything.” His eyes unfocused, then focused on her. “He thinks he doesn’t know you. But I do.”

“What?” Clara asked, a crawling fearful feeling shivering its way up her spine.

“Oh, I know you, Clara Oswald,” the Doctor said, teeth gritted in…pain? Grief? “He couldn’t sort you out, but I can.”

“What do you mean?” Clara asked, feeling cold all over.

“I’ve got your measure,” the Doctor said. “You’re one of the universe’s cruel tricks. Fated to die and be born over and over again. Dying without even the barest knowledge that you’ve lived.”

“What are you saying?” Clara whispered.

“That you and I are the same,” the Doctor said. “We’re the same. Only you can’t remember.”

“I don’t believe it,” Clara said, trying to be brave.

He shook his head weakly. “That won’t matter in the end. And when your body fails this time, when it’s consumed by flames or darkness or the faltering sound of your single heart, I wonder…how will you return the next time?”

“Everything dies,” Clara said, trying not to show how scared she was that what he said might be true.

“That’s not very comforting when you’re the one doing it. Believe me, I know,” the Doctor said, grimacing in pain.

“Tell me how to remember.” Clara hadn’t known she was going to ask that until she heard her own words.

The Doctor smiled sadly at her. “That’s as much use as me asking you how to forget.”

“You wouldn’t really want to,” Clara said.

The Doctor shook his head. “No.” He looked at Clara, pain in his eyes. Clara couldn’t tell if it was pain on his behalf or on hers. Or both. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay and help you.”

That genuinely surprised Clara. She hadn’t thought he liked her. “Did you want to?”

Again, that sad smile. “I always want to stay.” He looked directly at her, and Clara wanted to look away, but she didn’t dare. “Goodbye, Clara Oswald. Good luck.”

With that, never closing his eyes, he changed into Clara’s Doctor. And yet…as obstinate and mercurial as the other man had been…Clara found that she was going to miss him. 

The Doctor exhaled. “It’s over,” he said. “At last.”

“What was it like?” Clara asked.

“Fighting for survival?” The Doctor shrugged. “Like any other Saturday.”

“No, really,” Clara said.

The Doctor gave her one of his usual curious looks. “Why does that interest you?”

Clara shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I suppose because…I can’t remember.”

The Doctor was silent for a long moment. “I was wrong, you know,” he said. “The other me was wrong. You’re not like me. Or anyone else I’ve known.”

“I don’t want to be what he said,” Clara said, voice trembling. “Always dying. No life and no memory.”

The Doctor was silent.

“Come on,” he said finally. “Back to the TARDIS.”

“I think you’ll find that’s not an answer,” Clara said, throwing his other self’s words back at him.

But he wasn’t his other self anymore. And this self kept his secrets.


End file.
